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Summary
"Exactly." Harry's grin grew even wider, becoming almost maniacal. "Abraxas could never really want you…" He caught the flicker of doubt on Tom's face and hastened to explain, "…because he doesn't like men."
In the same breath, Harry's free hand slid between them and wrapped around Tom's aching cock. Tom startled hard at the sudden grip, a sharp gasp tearing from his lips. Harry didn't pause; he thrust his fingers deeper, curling them possessively.
"However," he growled, suddenly speeding up—faster, harder, relentless, "I do."
